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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23306095">Be More Quarantine Challenge!!!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_risen/pseuds/phoenix_risen'>phoenix_risen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, BATB, Beauty and the Beast, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mafia AU, Siren Jeremy Heere, Surprise Party, beholder brooke, cute stuff, hurt comfort, monster au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 22:07:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,804</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23306095</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_risen/pseuds/phoenix_risen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of short stories (like drabbles/oneshots) based on prompts from the Be More Quarantine challenge on Tumblr :)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Jeremy's Surprise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jeremy and Michael go to a diner to pick up a rare Barbie Doll, but Jeremy gets surprised instead :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
    <span>“This is ridiculous, y’know that, right?” Jeremy slumped against the diner counter, swiveling his stool back and forth as he did so. He was full of a nervous energy that he couldn’t quite contain, which resulted in him tapping his fingers, spinning in his seat, bouncing his leg… He was certainly agitated. Michael, on the other hand, wasn’t concerned in the least. He was eating his fries without a care in the world.</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“Listen, y’know my mama loves collectable barbies. This one is hella rare, and mom wanted to get it for her. I just happened to have the connections. He’s trustworthy, don’t sweat it.”</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“Why did he want to meet </span>
    <em>
      <span>here</span>
    </em>
    <span>, though??” Jeremy looked around, taking in his surroundings. He’d never been to this particular diner, but it was one he’d heard about before. It was one of those kitschy 50’s themed diners, all decked out with Coca Cola themed items and bold patterns of red, white, and black. He’d always meant to come here, as he was a bit of a sucker for campy themed stuff like this. “I really don’t get the whole collecting dolls thing, either.”</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>Michael laughed in response. “You said the same thing about my sodas. Doesn’t your aunt collect Beanie Babies? You know this shit is collectable as hell. It’s all about rarity and interest, my dude.”</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>Jeremy rested his face on the counter, sighing and looking at Michael sideways. “I guess? And she’s my great aunt, and crazy. Don’t compare you and your mom to her. What does the doll even look like?”</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“Oh, shit, it’s on my phone, in my search history. Grab it out of my pocket, my fingers are greasy as fuck.” Michael gestured to his hoodie pocket. Jeremy didn’t hesitate to reach in and grab Michael’s phone. He tapped in the passcode and pulled up the browser. He clicked into the search bar and scrolled down the search history.</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“...Why did you need to know how to do brain surgery?” Jeremy asked after a beat, obviously confused.</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“What? OH! Oh yeah!” Michael snorted. “It was cuz I was trying to make soup and looked it up, and Mama laughed at me and was like, “It’s not brain surgery!”. So I looked it up in the hopes of finding a Wikihow entry on it. Just to be a sass-master, I guess. They don’t have one, by the way. How are the neurosurgeons supposed to learn without that vital guide??” He feigned looking distressed. “I’m losing faith in modern medicine.”</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“Your mom is a whole ass doctor.”</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“Yeah, and how is she going to keep being one without Wikihow?!”</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>The two of them laughed at the absurdity of the statement while Jeremy found the name of the doll. Some Holiday Edition Barbie in a light blue dress, embroidery going down the skirt of it in swirls. She wore a cape, sort of like Little Red Riding Hood, and had her hands covered with a red, furry muffler. He supposed she looked nice enough, though really she was just like any other Barbie in his opinion. He was about to quip something as he looked back up at Michael, but found that not only was Michael staring at him. His dad, Michael’s moms, Christine, Rich, and Brooke were all there, smiling at him widely. He jumped, falling back and off of his stool, managing to bump his head on the counter. This led to a lot of concerned chatter from the group, especially his dad, who scooped him up and put him back on the stool.</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“Oww….” Jeremy rubbed his forehead. “What the hell?”</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“....Surprise??” Christine offered with a sheepish smile. “Happy Birthday, Jeremy.”</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>Jeremy blinked. “Wh… My birthday isn’t until next week.”</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“Yeah, yeah, but that ruins the surprise!” Rich bumped shoulders with Jeremy, who was over his head bump and smiling.</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“I guess, jesus! What about the Barbie?”</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“There’s no Barbie, that was just to get you here.” </span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“This seems kind of… convoluted. But thanks, guys.” Jeremy couldn’t help but beam. “Seriously.”</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>“Hell yeah, no problem, dude!” Michael grabbed Jeremy’s arm. “Now it’s party room time! They do like, old timey milkshakes and have a soda fountain and a record playing jukebox in there! It’s rad as fuuuuuuu-” He looked at his moms. “-uuuuuuudge?”</span>
  </p>
<p>
    
    <span>They looked at him sternly for half a second before bursting out in laughter, with everyone else following suit soon after. This was certainly unexpected, but Jeremy had to admit, this had to be the coolest birthday he’d had in a while.</span>
  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Beauty and the Beast Boyfs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jeremy reflects on how he came to meet the beastly Prince Michael and taught him to write in cursive :)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Used all three prompts, final word count of 1074.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was a weird situation,the one Jeremy was in. It all started when a sickness swept through his village. All the village supplies were decimated, especially as the sickness struck right after the winter time. Supplies were usually low at the beginning of the spring anyway, but there wasn’t a single person in the village that didn’t have bare shelves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeremy and his father were struggling. His father was a lawyer, and while they had quite a bit of money, that wasn’t any help when there was nothing to buy. Things became even more dire when his father fell ill. He was then faced with two options; One, brave the still harsh weather and travel into the forest in hopes of making it to the city that was located eight miles north, where he could purchase medicine for his father. If he did this, he could bring more medicine to the rest of his village as well. That was his father’s idea, always a charitable man, even in the worst of times. The other option was… well, it wasn’t really an option in Jeremy’s mind. There was </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> man in the town who still had all the necessities. The man, a hunter who Jeremy had never actually met, had apparently seen him and sent his bully of a lackey Rich to offer a proposal to Jeremy. Jeremy had refused, and was unwilling to budge. He’d rather walk the twenty miles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He set out on his trek, on foot, with a bag of money hidden under his cloak. He was going to make it to the city and heal his home, and he was not, under any circumstances, getting involved with the Hunter. He was not a kind man, not a good man, and if he cared about anything he would offer to help the village. Jeremy didn’t consider himself an altruistic person, but his father had always taught him to avoid being selfish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeremy didn’t regret his choice. After all, it brought him here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Here</span>
  </em>
  <span> was a castle, dilapidated but still beautiful, where he had been able to shelter over the last few weeks. When Jeremy had left his home, he had not known about the impending snow storm that was headed his way. In the tall pine trees, with the snow covering the path, he lost his way. Everything was white and green, with no difference in the ground between where he was going and where he had been. He couldn’t even try to return home, as his foot prints seemed to disappear as fast as they appeared. He was all turned around, and through complete chance wandered onto the castle grounds. It was better than being out in the cold, so he entered it as quickly as possible. That’s where he met Michael.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first time they encountered each other, it was quite the mess. Jeremy had to admit, he had never experienced fear to the extent he did when he accidently bumped into what he thought was a taxidermied bear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nope.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Said bear was actually a cursed prince named Michael, who was as spooked by Jeremy as Jeremy was of him. There was a lot of screaming, running in opposite directions, freaking out, until they somehow crossed paths again. Michael was less scared and actually pursued Jeremy that time, something they laughed about now but at the time was mortifying. Jeremy still wasn’t sure how he brought himself to hear Michael out about his story and how he came to be in the form he was. He was an odd amalgamation of animals, with horns like a ram but teeth like a lion, human hands but long claws instead of nails, covered tip to tail in fur. Jeremy thought that maybe what made him give what looked like a terrifying creature a chance was that he wore glasses. Something about the glasses made him feel better, made him realize that he could trust him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael was more than willing to allow Jeremy to stay at his castle until the weather improved, as he seemed to crave some sort of companionship. There were lots of provisions in the castle, and Michael knew a little bit of magic. Just enough to allow Jeremy to send a letter to his father with some food and medicine as if it was mail. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The real turning point, though, was when Michael watched him write the letter. Jeremy was signing his name, and Michael was watching him, seemingly enraptured. Eventually Jeremy asked him why he was so interested, and Michael admitted that he always loved the way cursive looked, but couldn’t read or write in it. Jeremy offered, quite readily in fact, to teach him how to do so. Michael jumped at the offer, and from there their relationship became closer. Jeremy even held onto some of the lessons he found himself feeling.. Attached? Was that the word? To. Cute things, like when Michael first spelled his name in loopy script, or when he wrote Jeremy a little note about going out for a walk and wrote all the Ws unattached to the rest of the words, as he didn’t know how they connected to the rest of the letters, or when Jeremy was demonstrating how to write a Z, Michael drew a stupid looking pencil above it as a joke. The two of them had laughed so long and hard at the dumb doodle that Jeremy’s ribs hurt and the fur on Michael’s face was damp from him tearing up. When they recovered, Michael drew a mouth on it in the shape of a cursive Z, which sent Jeremy right back into hysterics. It was little moments like that that made Jeremy’s heart feel light and his time with Michael feel comfortable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He adored him, the awkward monster that filed his claws and wanted to learn cursive, the beast who reminded him to send letters to his dad and would wrap Jeremy up in his cloak when he was cold. Michael, whose face lit up like the sun when he saw the first robins of the season.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jeremy didn’t expect this to happen, but he wasn’t upset about it. Not in the least. Honestly, he could stay here forever and not regret it beyond missing his father. Maybe he could stay here too. Michael wouldn’t mind. That sounded idyllic, happy with a dorky monster and his dad. He could live with that.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Brooke The Beholder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Brooke is often plagued by prophetic dreams, and when one seemingly has to do with her friend Jenna, she is mortified to find her friend missing.</p><p>May make this into a longer fic, IDK.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Final Word Count: 2019</p><p>Used all the prompts, including the special "Mention Jeremy is Jewish" one, and of course Jeremy is in here.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Brooke was worried, to say the least. She could feel her skin prickle under her sweater. Something was very, very wrong and she had no idea what it was. Something was just… off about the air tonight. She ran her hands down her face and decided that the best course of action would be to just check. Check and make sure it was just a dream, not one of her visions. Her skin prickled more, and she pulled up her sleeve to check. Eyes had begun to manifest from her stress, dark brown and staring blankly back at her. She looked around before quickly rolling her sleeves back down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above everything else, Brooke hated being an oracle. Being a beholder just made it worse. Her many eyes saw many futures, instead of one clear one, and it swirled around in her brain. Visions she couldn’t explain, the dizzy spells, the uncertainty of the messages mixed with the knowledge something was going to happen. It was a terrible feeling she couldn’t escape, and something she had been used for by others her whole life. A beta, a follower, people like her friend Chloe using her ability to check the probability of getting away with troublemaking. Any sort of apprehension met with sorry excuses that Brooke couldn’t argue with. Until recently, she didn’t have the spine to fight the most popular girl in school. Exploited or not, at least she felt needed, wanted, liked. Chloe could be nice, when she wasn’t spouting things like “I’m not a thief, I’m just really good at acquiring things that aren’t mine” or other entitled bullshit. To be fair to her, Brooke knew why she craved attention so badly. Maybe that was the real reason she let her do what she wanted for so long. Now was better, Chloe was better, things were going well for a change. And now this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This vision, though, there was a reason she thought it might be a dream. It was more abstract than she’d ever experienced. A purple eclipse, a watch, and dread. That’s all she remembered from it. A purple eclipse above, a watch on her wrist saying the 25th, 2:50, and feeling like everything was ending. She tried to make sense of it. 2:50, and it being dark, made her think maybe it was close to 3 am. Witching hour. She knew a witch, but she didn’t really… talk to the girl. She was nice, though. Christine Canigula. Brooke had always found her cute, rushing around to classes with her familiar, a small black cat, in her backpack. She had a Supernatural Bloodline Exception, though for the general student body the cat was listed as a therapy animal. Just like how Brooke was allowed to leave class when she was feeling faint, or how Chloe as a werewolf got the week of the full moon off from school. Then again, purple eclipse. Purple was her human friend Jenna’s favorite color. She wore it a lot. Plus, the apartment she lived in was Apartment 25. That made her tense, too. Jenna was always getting involved in dangerous stuff because she was nosy. It was worrying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> Brooke felt an eye open on her neck, and she fixed her hair to cover it. The stress was making her human form waver. Lord, she needed to get herself together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Brooke?” A voice suddenly broke the tension in the air and she looked up with wide eyes. A silver Toyota had pulled up next to her, and the window was rolled down. Looking out were two familiar faces, both looking concerned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hey Jeremy! A-and….” She trailed off. She knew she knew his name. He was Jeremy’s “best friend only, no we aren't dating why would you ask that” friend. What was his name-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Michael. It’s Michael.” He supplied, looking a little miffed but doing his best to smooth it over. She appreciated that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ve just got a lot on my mind and we’ve met, like, three times. I’m sorry.” Brooke smiled apologetically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.” Michael waved it off. “Are you good? You look like you’re freaking out a little.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I’m good.” She laughed, but it came out weird and forced. She tried to remember what Michael was, if anything. If he was human, did he know about… supernatural things? And if he did, how much? Did he know about Jeremy? He wasn’t exactly good at hiding it, his wings barely covered by his cardigan most of the time. Hell, he had a neon sign shaped like angel wings hanging in his room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it a monster thing?” Well, that answered her question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I don’t think so!” That sounded fake as all hell, yikes. “I’m just kinda stressed about school. Actually, are you guys going into town? I wanted to head over to my friends place and walking is, like, so lame. Usually my mom would drive me or I’d skateboard there but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course! We’re just headed to the mall. Mike’s got some stuff reserved at GameStop, and I want to go look wistfully at the Switches that I don’t have the money for.” Jeremy sighed, which made Michael laugh. The casualness of the situation made Brooke feel a little better. She smiled and got in the back seat, buckling up and putting her bag beside her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yo, now that I know you CAN have monster problems, what </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> you?” Michael asked cheerfully, turning around in his seat to face her. She was caught off guard, but before she could say anything Jeremy squeaked in mortification.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Michael, that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>rude</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Dude, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> that’s rude!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just curious!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Monster isn’t even a good term, it’s like… slang. And just asking someone, it’s, it’s-!” Jeremy sputtered. “You just don’t ask that stuff!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, how am I supposed to know that!” Michael asked defensively, though his tone was still light and somewhat teasing. “Sorry I’m not wise in the ways of the supernatural, Angel! You’re the one teaching me, so that reflects more on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen. Listen. Fuck you.” Jeremy bemoaned. “I’m not an angel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re an angel in my heart, even if you’re jewish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The jewish part isn’t what makes me not an angel, Mike!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what part? Why aren’t you? You seem like one to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. My god.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brooke grinned, especially when she saw Jeremy’s blush through the rearview mirror. These two were cute, so cute. She let them bicker like an old married couple, happy to not have to answer the question but not offended at it having been asked. She just looked out the window and let herself be distracted. It was nice, now with some background noise, to parse things out. She closed her eyes, and felt the rest of the eyes on her body close. Think, think….</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it was Jenna, definitely. Something bad was going to happen, but not life or death. It would be scary, but now that she could take a second and actually prepare, something could be done. Until it happened, though, she had no idea what it was going to be. Deep breaths, the future wasn’t as scary as it felt. Deep breaths, deep breathes…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you asleep?” She opened her eyes to see Jeremy looking concerned again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, just thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your friend’s address?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s just Jenna’s apartment. I’m trying to keep her from getting in supernatural business, y’know how she is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, cool, yeah!” Jeremy nodded. “She has some… wild ideas about it, huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooooh yeah, it’s bananas.” Brooke shrugged. “No biggie, though, just gotta keep her from figuring too much out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got privileges. Wing related privileges.” Michael said, obviously proud of himself. “So I get to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, shut up.” Jeremy was blushing again. They really may as well have been dating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, anyways…. Michael, I never answered your question. I’m a beholder, also known as an Argus, whatever else. I have lots of eyes and see the future sometimes. That’s not really related to the beholder thing, that’s a me thing, but yeah. Oracle.” Brooke played with the hem of her sweater. It wasn’t often that she stated it so plainly, especially after feeling so awkward about it before. Michael looked at her with wide, excited eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A </span>
  <em>
    <span>beholder?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Like in Dungeons and Dragons? You don’t look like one, not really, but then again Jeremy told me all about glamours and magic and how you can cover up what you really look like. Jeremy has fangs and wings and…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “He sings like an angel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a siren, Michael, holy shit!” Jeremy parked the car and rolled his head back, playfully pushing Michael’s shoulder. “Jeeeesus. Here you go, Brooke. Jenna’s place. If you ever need a ride anywhere, just let me know and I’ll make sure Michael’s not in here to give you the third degree.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, I don’t get why you’re being so cagey.” Michael pouted, and Jeremy immediately became apologetic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I don’t mean to be on your case so much, it’s just-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Jeremy.” Brooke was already getting out of the car, not wanting to interrupt their GameStop date any more than she already had. “You’re a lifesaver.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeremy and Michael both waved their goodbyes and drove off, leaving Brooke standing on the sidewalk. She looked to the apartment and felt a chill go through her body. The entire time she spent walking in and getting into the elevator, she felt chills wrack her body. The feeling only intensified as she walked towards Jenna’s place. Apartment 25, where she lived with her parents. She’d been in there many times, nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brooke knocked, her hands shaking a little as she did so. This shouldn’t be this scary, not in the least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knock, knock, knock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was shuffling behind the door, like someone was surprised to be called on. It only just occurred to Brooke that she could have texted, called, something ahead of time. It was too late now. The door cracked open and… There was a young man there, maybe 25, with long ratty hair and pale skin. He looked like death warmed over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Hi?” He raised an eyebrow. “Who are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um. Brooke. I’m friends with the family who lives here?” Brooke rechecked the door number, it was definitely 25. This was Jenna’s apartment. She even recognized the blue scuff on the door from when Chloe’s foot had caught on it years ago. It was definitely hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Family? What do you mean? I’m the only person that lives here. I’ve lived here for like,” He did some mental math. “Almost six months, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?? I was here last week!” Brooke couldn’t keep herself from raising her voice. “What are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about, lady.” The man bristled. “This is my fucking apartment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, are you a vampire or something? Did you drink from them?” Brooke was getting hysterical. At the mention of this, the man got paler, if that was even possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No? No! Listen, quiet down, I’ll let you in if you want, just… just stop shouting about vampires. Here.” He swung his door open, and inside was a normal apartment, but not Jenna’s. Brooke knew what it looked like, and all the furniture, the wall hangings, everything was different. Her heart sank. “I don’t know who your friend is, but I promise you, I’m telling the truth when I say I’ve been living here. I’m not a vampire either, but the people in this building are mostly human so I wouldn’t go screaming about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” Brooke felt dizzy, swaying back and forth. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god.” The man reached out and held her up. “Come in. Seriously. It’ll… It’ll be okay. I’ve got, like, cans of soda if you want. Just take a second.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brooke felt her vision cloud and her head spin. She leaned against him, but it wasn’t enough. Her last thought before she hit the floor was, “Where is Jenna?”.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. New Memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>aka Jeremy is sad but his friends are rad.</p><p>A group of friends go camping, but Jeremy has some bad memories he's trying to deal with.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All prompts used, final wc 1051</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Awwww, man, it’s fuckin’ goooorgeous out here!!” Rich proclaimed, stretching his arms out to the sky and reveling in the nice weather. “It has been a hot fuckin’ second since I’ve been camping!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never been. My moms aren’t the outdoorsy sort of lesbians.” Michael joked, readjusting his handle on the cooler.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too bad.” Brooke teased, swinging hers and Christine's hands between them. “I can be the designated forest lesbian, then. Chopping down trees and kissing cute girls.” This earned a giggle from Christine, who swung their hands more dramatically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ew. Gays? In my forest? I’m going home.” Jenna made a sound like she was puking, then joined in the giggling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We own this forest. Michael can come with, lesbian gay solidarity.” Christine said, grinning ear to ears. “Cishetties go home!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare </span>
  </em>
  <span>you imply I would ever be,” Jenna made the puking sound again. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Cis</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Jenna, that she would imply that you would ever be something so detestable.” Michael feigned sadness, putting his free hand over his heart. “Can we get an F in the chat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Screw you guys, this forest is clearly for the Bis! This is bi territory!! Right, tallass? ...Tallass?” When he didn’t get an immediate response, Rich looked around, taking a quick headcount. Michael, Christine, Brooke, himself, Jenna…. And no Jeremy to be found. Huh. “Where is he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Oh, he wanted to take a second. He used to go here with his family, y’know.” Michael shrugged. “He said he would catch up. Don’t worry. He has his phone, anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, if you say so.” Rich shrugged back. “You’re his childhood friend, not me. I’ll let you make the call, but if his twinky ass gets eaten by wolves, it’s on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okayyyy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jeremy stood at the very edge of the trail, looking out at the idyllic scene in front of him. It was quiet, the water so calm the trees on the far side of the lake were reflected almost perfectly back, undisturbed by anything but the occasional ripples. Jeremy leaned against the railing, surveying the place with a feeling of bittersweet nostalgia. He’d been on this trail a million times, walking amongst the trees and taking in nature. His father loved stereotypical family outings, and his mother loved hiking, so they would often go as a family on nature trails. He’s been on this one in the summer for walks and swimming, the winter for snowshoeing, the fall for the scenic colorway, the spring to look for robins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t been since he was thirteen, now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jeremy turned away from the water and looked at the path behind him. It was already getting dark, but he didn’t mind. He knew this trail well. He knew the dirt path and the broken tree trunk that was never removed. He knew which color coded flag meant which trail, and all the notable landmarks. The bench, where the campground was, everything was coded into his mind with good moments from his childhood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they told him they decided on this campground, he had almost refused. He didn’t want to be here again, not after everything that had happened. His dad had just barely gotten back to being sort of normal, him and Michael had finally resolved enough of the tension left between them that they could hang out semi-normally, and he was home from his first year of college. Then old wounds just had to be ripped open, hurt deeper than what the Squip did to him. It wasn’t any direct hurt, they didn’t mean to hurt him. But it did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a heavy sigh he started his trek to his friends’ campsite.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fire was what he saw first, walking up the hill. It threw sparks into the air that dissolved into the stars in the sky. The second thing he saw was Rich running around the huge thing, whooping and hollering about how big it was getting. It made him a little less down, seeing Rich having fun. The therapy was obviously helping. He couldn’t imagine Rich in high school being that comfortable around open flame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christine was sitting in Brooke’s lap, with Brooke’s chin on her shoulder. She was cheering Rich on, while Brooke watched in amusement. The two had gotten together at the beginning of senior year and Jeremy couldn’t be more happy for them. They were adorable and had chemistry, though they liked to tease him about them both being his exes. He turned them gay, they cried, then laughed. It was funny, though, he didn’t mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jenna was filming the whole thing, not watching her marshmallow melt and drop off her skewer. She wasn’t a gossip hound anymore, she didn’t feel the need to be. She could be herself and everyone here loved her for it. She was fantastic and the best person to turn to when you needed some comfort and advice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then there was Michael, who saw him first, literally and figuratively. A good friend, his first friend, and the first to see him coming back. He walked quietly over, not calling any attention to them, and greeted Jeremy with a soft smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay, buddy?” He put a reassuring hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, and Jeremy couldn’t help but return the smile. Despite his trepidation, he did think he was okay. Seeing everything that reminded him of his hardships, and then being able to see his present put it all in perspective. He could make new memories here. It would be healthy to be able to enjoy what he used to without the looming sadness that often haunted him. That’s what his therapist said, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, uh, actually, I’m pretty good. Do y’all have s’mores makings?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, of course. And if you’re interested, Brooke and I were gonna hotbox one of the tents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds dangerous.” Jeremy snorted. “But sure, y’know what? What the hell. Just make sure the Designated Mother Hen knows so he can watch us. I still don’t know how Rich went from a party animal to so- actually, scratch that, yes I do. I’m stupid.” He face-palmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael barked out a laugh, finally getting the attention of the rest of the group. There was a commotion welcoming Jeremy back, and he felt his heart soar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He really loved these guys.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Mafia AU</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>aka rich punches the squip and talks too much.</p><p>Ambiguous ship w/ jeremy, so it can be literally anyone but Rich  lmaooooooooooooooooooooooo</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Used all this rounds prompt, jeremy is talked about a lot, jeremy being jewish is referenced, and a prompt from round 3 was used :D wc 1073</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Can I go now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rich had to clench his fists to keep himself from snapping at the man sitting across the table from him. He hated him, more than anyone on this earth, except maybe his dad. The cocky bastard just looked at him, unimpressed and unfazed. God, this prick.</span>
</p><p><span>“No, yo</span> <span>u fucking can’t.” He slammed his hands on the table, getting eye-level with him. His eyes were ice blue and completely empty of light, more like a machine than a man. He’d seen criminals with eyes like wild animals, crazed, inconsolable. But even then, there was light, some sort of spark that told you they were at least alive.</span></p><p>
  <span>Erik Squip didn’t have that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you should be swearing at me.” Squip tipped his head to the side, considering the detective across from him. “What would your father say, Richard? Tsk, tsk. I am, at least, impressed that you’ve managed to secure a position with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Law</span>
  </em>
  <span>, of all places. A brute like yourself… I’m sure my tutelage helped in that.” He smiled, but it was a facsimile of any sort of emotion. He’d always been like that, though only now was Rich able to see how distorted his attempt at a smile was. When he was younger, he thought of Erik Squip as a role model, someone to look up to, and he was able to look past the discomfort he felt in his presence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it was different. Now he knew what he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Erik Squip was a hitman, and a good one. A machine made to manipulate and kill without remorse or restraint. If evil was a thing, Rich believed it was him. He’d been evading the police for years, and if what he had told Rich when they were…. He hesitated to call them friends… was true, he’d been killing as an occupation since he was fifteen. Fifteen years old, and killing. That meant he’d had over two decades to hone his craft. Two decades to get it down to a science. There were rumors that he was even able to dodge bullets, become invisible, disappear and reappear seamlessly. A dark coat and blue eyes were all that really existed. Of course, that was all born out of fear, but that fear was justified. The only reason Rich had caught him at all was because Jeremy Heere, the son of Squip’s boss, was more than willing to rat on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had honestly caught him off-guard; Jeremy had walked into the police station, asking for him. After being pledged into the mob and then leaving to join the police, Rich was more than apprehensive to speak to him. The Heeres were an incredibly powerful Jewish-American mob family, and Mr. Heere was a kind man despite his position. He’d taken Rich in when he ran away, the same way he took in Squip and another lost soul named Brooke. Jeremy was his genetic son, but Mr. Heere was more than willing to treat them like his children. Because of this, Rich knew that Jeremy wasn’t a liar. He also knew the treatment Jeremy had received at the hands of Squip. More or less, the story was that Jeremy fell in love with someone, and Squip was… He didn’t know. Jealous, angry, something. Regardless, he was getting more and more violent towards Jeremy because of this. He told him that Rich should go to the Rotary Picnic in the park, as he would find Squip there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He went expecting to simply see the man, not witness a hit on a politician. At the very least, as policemen were already at the scene, the culprit was caught quickly. Everything taped off and neat as it could be given the circumstances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Squip didn’t even seem surprised as he was put into the car, just mildly agitated. As if he’d stepped in something, or an event he was looking forward to had been cancelled. Not like he was being arrested for multiple counts of murder. He couldn’t even gloat about it when any sort of comment he might have would receive a bland glare and a witty reply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Erik</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I haven’t had to shoot anybody, thank you very much.” Rich glowered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t. It’s Squip. And you always prefered a fist fight to a shootout, though. I know that much.” There was that goddamn smile again. Then the bastard had the balls to check his </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking bougie-ass watch</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Rich couldn’t take it. Before he could even think, he decked him right in the jaw as hard as he could. He could lose his job for that, but his anger got the best of him. He couldn’t sit and take the passive aggressive bullshit from him anymore. He’d spent the entirety of his teenage years being manipulated, formed into a violent mess until he couldn’t stand to look at himself anymore. At least he had the common decency to feel bad about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To his credit, Squip actually looked put off. He reached up and touched his face, stunned, before gritting his teeth. “That was very mature of you. Are you proud?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly? Yeah. Fuck you.” Rich shook his hand out, squaring up and puffing out his chest a little. He wasn’t scared, not of this guy. Not now. “We have you, you aren’t gonna hurt anybody ever again. Especially not Jeremy. He gave me the tip to get you in here, and now here’s where you’re gonna stay.” Maybe before he couldn’t gloat, but the little bit of weakness he saw in Squip’s face made him want to go in like a shark did to blood in the water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“....Jeremy told you?” Suddenly his whole demeanor changed. Vague annoyance and more than a little surprise turned into rage that seemed to permeate the air. “He </span>
  <em>
    <span>told you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he was sick of your bullshit and wanted to be able to live his life. And now that you’re here, he’s ca-” Rich;s smug reply was cut off by another officer poking his head into the interrogation room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Squip. Your bail has been posted.” He spat, obviously disgusted to let him go. Rich felt his stomach drop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, officer.” Squip cooled down to icy in less than a second. Smiling. At Rich. “And thank you, Richard. I’ll have to have a little chat with Jeremy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait-” Rich tried to stop him, but just like that, he was already gone.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. zombie au</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>go read it here bc it hella long https://archiveofourown.org/works/23507185</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>follow the link to read this weeks :)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Brooke and Michael are Friends in Gay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Brooke and Michael just chill because they're awesome like that.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WC 823<br/>All prompts and one previous.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I stand by this being the best Panic album, I’m sorry, but Nine In The Afternoon? Mad as Rabbits? I loooove the sound of this one. It’s so different from their other stuff.” Brooke was jamming in the front seat of her banana yellow VW bus. Michael sat next to her, bobbing along to the music she was playing for him. “I was never one for the edgier stuff. I wasn’t an emo kid, I always wanted to be a skater girl, y’know? Like Averille Lavigne. She was my gay awakening, hands down. I couldn’t decide what I wanted to date her or be her.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel that, seriously!” Michael reclined in his seat. “Mine was way more lame, though. Averille Lavigne is a great first crush.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t just say that and not elaborate!” Brooke turned the music down to listen to what Michael had to say. “Dish, dish, dish, dish!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if you’ll even know who I’m talking about!” Michael turned red. It was weird, hanging out with certified popular girl Brooke Lohst, but he had to admit, he liked her a lot. When Jeremy had initially wanted to introduce him to his new friends, “The Popular Kids” trademark, copyright, whatever, Michael was apprehensive. These were people who at best ignored him, and at worst straight out bullied him. But then again, he’d managed to come around to Rich Goranski of all people, his number one tormenter. The Squips sort of made everyone have to face the shittiest parts of themselves, and now… well, everyone just seemed… chiller. Including Brooke. She’d switched her fashion to a cool 70’s vibe, and she would sit and smoke with Jeremy and Rich. They called it the High Bis Club, but from there Jeremy wanted Michael to get to know Brooke. So they smoked together and talked about how awful it is to crush on straight friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact that they became such good friends so fast Michael chalked up to Queer Magnetism.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care, tell me!” Brooke nudged him as well as she could without compromising her ability to drive. She’d just barely gotten the car, a gift for getting her license from her dad, and she was taking being a responsible driver pretty seriously. “I don’t have to show you where I get my bomb ass clothes. I can take you home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nooooo!” Michael whined. They were on their way to a store that specialized in everything retro and vintage. Brooke was wearing a pair of bell bottoms she’d gotten there, covered in an interesting print. Michael loved fashion like that, though it didn’t really match up with his own laidback aesthetic. He was more interested in the fact there were old gaming systems there. “Fine. It was Howl. From Howl’s Moving Castle. You happy now?” Michael turned to the window, pretending to be more embarrassed than he actually was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. My god. You always had a thing for dramatic twinks, then?!” Brooke ribbed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe! Maybe. Oh god, don’t tell him. I would die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not. As insurance, I’ll tell you a little secret. I had a crush on every female villain in a show I watched. Shego, Azula, you name it. Then Chloe. Now I have a crush on someone else and she isn’t ANYTHING like any of them. She’s more like my taste in guys. Dorky, sweet, dramatic. Y’know. I guess our taste in dudes is the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We knew that already, you dated Jeremy.” Michael chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but when he was in computerized asshat mode.” Brooke snorted. “I like him a lot better as a buddy. Dude, speaking of that, Jake’s having a bonfire, just for the Squip Squad, if you wanna come. You’re a part of it, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Really?” Michael was surprised. He never thought of himself as really part of that group. He was the only one of them that was never actually squipped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course! You’re the bomb, my dude. It sucks the majority of us were too up our own asses to see that before. I really love having you as a friend.” Brooke said, tone serious and genuine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael was touched, not sure what to say for a minute or so. They sat in silence, save for the C.D. playing, until Michael finally spoke. “Thanks. I’m happy I’m friends with you, too. It’s nice to have someone who I can chat about gay shit with without the fear that Jeremy’ll find out I have a big, fat, stupid crush on him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re lucky he’s oblivious, because you’re hella obvious.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am not!! I-! I-! I’m good at hiding it!” Sweet moment over, back to buddy talk. Michael was grateful, really. He always thought Jeremy was all he needed, but having other friends… well, it was great. Especially friends like Brooke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re here!” Brooke parked the car. “You ready to get some cute shit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell yeah.” Michael grinned. This was awesome.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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